


Knocking on Death's Door

by Charlotte_Horemans



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beacon Hills, Murder, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlotte_Horemans/pseuds/Charlotte_Horemans
Summary: When news leaks about the latest murder in Beacon Hills, Sam and Dean naturally go to figure it out. Only this time, the job's a little different. What the Winchesters and Scott's pack think they know of their world will be turned upside down in a heartbeat. And the two will have to learn to work together if they wish to save Beacon Hills and their own skins. And find out what nature of a creature had murdered the little girl.





	Knocking on Death's Door

Sam awoke suddenly, surrounded by darkness, a loud honk arousing him from his slumber. The sound dimmed as it passed them.

"Assholes!" He heard Dean yell, honking the Impala's horn in response as the truck passed them at an immense speed, the light from its headlights flooding through the windows.

Dean swore once more as Sam sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. His face hurt from where it had rested uncomfortably against the door.

"Sorry Sammy," Dean said, taking his eyes off the road to glance over at his brother. "Nap time's over. We're almost there."

Sam frowned. Were they going somewhere? He couldn't remember.

"Where?" he asked curiously, rubbing his neck. Dean didn't take his eyes off the road as he answered.

"Beacon Hills." He pushed down harder on the accelerator. "But first, burgers."

The far distant the sun began to rise, only barely lighting the dark.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Scott! Wake up, or you're going to be late for school!" Melissa shouted from the bottom of the stairs, her voice carrying up to Scott's room. Scott woke up extremely uncomfortably, his head pressed against a hard surface. He lifted his head with a groan and found he'd fallen asleep on his math textbook, his drool a small mark on the page.

"Oh, man," he said groaning, looking at the two unanswered questions of eight parts he still had left to finish. And checking his phone, he saw he was already going to be late.

I'll do it in the car; he thought to himself as he quickly pulled off his sweaty shirt and picked another clean-ish shirt from off the ground. He smelled it and shrugged. He scrambled his stuff together and put his shoes on as he went down the stairs. Stumbling every few steps. He'd almost reached the door when his mother came up behind him.

"Werewolf or not, you still need your breakfast," she said, and he turned around to find her holding out a plastic-wrapped sandwich.

"Mom, you know how Stiles is about food in his truck," Scott complained, despite his hunger. Mellissa simply raised an eyebrow. He smiled and took it.

"Thanks, mom."

He leant forward to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled as he turned around and quickly opened the door, sprinting down the few steps just as Stiles' jeep came around the corner, late as always. He drove way too fast and came to a screeching stop outside Scott's house.

"C'mon man!" Stiles shouted to him from his car, leaning out his already rolled down window.

"I'm coming. I'm coming!" Scott said annoyed and reached the car, opening the door and getting in. Just as he slammed the door shut Stiles hit the accelerator. The rattling vehicle surged forward, giving Scott barley enough time to hold on as they started speeding through Beacon Hills.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"So," Dean said, "found anything?"

Sam hesitated before answering.

"In the lore, not much. But this definitely isn't a normal town. The amount of reported paranormal activity is way too high to be a coincidence or one or two nutters. A wolf-like beast in the local high school, a whole load of random, unconnected kids going missing before all appearing again at the same time. The only thing they had in common was that they all went to that same high school. And the amount of killing, wolf attacks, weird animal activity, teenager's deaths is unbelievable. The list just goes on and on. I think it's all connected to Beacon Hills High School," Sam said as the car hummed, rattling softly over the old road.

"Great," Dean said sarcastically, not pleased with the news. "Another high school."

He sighed and looked straight ahead. After a moment he spoke again, his eyebrows scrunched together as he thought over what Sam had said.

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know. Could be anything right now," Sam said, looking through a file full of reports, the latest of the accidents having only happened just yesterday.

"You know what surprised me?" Sam said as he took his eyes off the folder to look at Dean,

"What," Dean said, his tone flat as he took a left turn.

"Is how long this has been going on before we heard about it. I mean, all these accounts happened in just four years, back to back. And no one's heard of them. No hunters, no FBI. Except for one agent but that was all completely covered up afterwards. What or who is keeping this all a secret?" Sam asked, looking to Dean for answers.

But he only shrugged,

"I don't know man. I mean, we've managed. What's it been, 12 years of credit card fraud? Faking being agents. We've been arrested and declared dead a handful of times. We freaken' dig up graves and leave a trail of bodies, human and not, and somehow we're not rotting in a cell. And we've done all that by ourselves and with help from a handful of people. Maybe they've got their own Judy or Bobby."

Sam thought for a second and nodded.

"Could be. But then how come it's all coming to surface now," Sam asked, biting his lip.

"Everyone makes mistakes, slips up. It just happens," Dean said, "and about time too," he added under his breath.

"But still. All those things, they all happened in four years, all connected to a high school…"

"Four years. Just like four years of high school," Dean finished, catching on to Sam's train of thought.

"Exactly," Sam said, and Dean nodded.

"So you think it's a student or connected to a student?"

"Yeah, something like that. Still…"

"Hey, Sam." Dean said, "Don't worry about it. We'll find those sons of a bitches and stop em. We'll figure it out. We always do."

"Yeah, I know."

They both remained quiet until they reached their next stop.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Hey Scott, what was the answer for 2b?" Stiles asked as they came closer and closer to school. Scott looked away from the window.

"What?" he asked, no idea what Stiles was going on about.

"The math homework."

Stiles said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Scott stared at him, incredulously.

"I have better thing to worry about than stupid algebra. You should have too," he said.

Stiles put his hands up in surrender. Scott hated it when he did that, mostly because it meant there were no hands on the wheel. But complaining only led to him doing it more, only because it annoyed Scott. Honestly, it scared him.

"You didn't do it, did you?" Stiles asked, smiling from ear to ear. Scott sighed and looked out of the window.

"I did most of it," he mumbled.

"I suppose you do have your mother to be worried about. Getting married again and all."

Scott sighed, not averting his gaze from the window.

"Don't remind me," he said, expecting Stiles to retort a comeback. But he dropped the subject.

"I made progress with the murder by the way," he said passively. Scott whipped his head round to his friend, his interests peaked.

"Really? What did you find?" he asked excited and dreading the answer.

"You won't like it," Stiles warned him.

"I never like it," Scott said with a sigh. Stiles gave him a pitying glance before turning his gaze back to the road ahead.

"I think it's a werewolf pack. Or maybe a lone wolf. We might be able to help him or her, show them the other way, but if not…I guess we'd have to drive them out of town. Show them who's the alpha around here."

"And leave them for someone else to deal with? No. We'd have to kill them," he said sadly, and for a while, nothing else was said. He hated having to be so brutal. So unhesitating and realistic. But those were their options. How long had it been that way? This wasn't the life for two eighteen-year-old boys. They were much older than that at heart. Forced to fix the problems of the world because there was no one else who would. So they had to. And if it came down to it, any one of them would be forced to kill the beast, no matter who the man behind the fur was. How old or innocent they were.

"But why, why would they target a child. Do you think they tried to change her?" Scott asked, thinking back to the events of last night.

Stiles thought for a moment then shrugged,

"I don't know. They might have tried to change her, but lost control at the taste of blood. And instead ripped her head off. As for her being a child…I don't know."

Scott shivered at the details. He stared at the small wrapped package in his lap. Being reminded of the details of the murder, Scott knew he wouldn't be eating his sandwich any time soon.

"We can't have a single normal year for a change, can we?" Scott said, looking back out the window again.

"I don't think normal coming in a werewolf's job description," Stiles said with a smile, despite the circumstances. It wasn't a sad smile. Stiles didn't do sad smiles. He always tried to find the humour in everything. Scott sighed again and sank lower in his seat.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Really?" Dean said annoyed, dropping his triple bacon Jeremy's Diner burger back onto his plate, "You couldn't have waited to tell me her head was bitten off until after I had finished my burger!" he said angrily.

Sam rolled his eyes and gave him a look. He turned his laptop around and showed the picture of her headless body and her head a couple inches away, frozen in a look of pure terror. Dean glanced over at the screen before turning his head, pushing the laptop back around to Sam.

"Don't show me pictures! Just read," he complained. Sam looked at him smugly before continuing to read from his laptop.

"Okay... Um… Little girl, 7 years old, not from around here. Actually, no one knows who she is. She was attacked and bitten in the leg, shoulder and neck. They said it was some beast, a wolf maybe. And her head had been torn off. No further details."

Just then the waitress, wearing a 'Jeremy's Diner' apron came up to their table. She stared at Sam in shock for a second before looking down and rather quickly placing his salad next to his laptop.

Sam opened his mouth to explain, searching for a credible excuse. He thought of mentioning it was from a book, but all he managed was an awkward, "Ummm."

She'd already turned away, hastily making her way to another booth to take someone's order. Sam closed his mouth sheepishly and turned to find Dean staring at him. Looking very unimpressed but very amused.

"Smooth Sammy, very smooth."

Sam shrugged, really not caring what a waitress in a diner in the middle of absolutely nowhere thought.

"Just eat your burger," he told Dean as he ate his own salad. He noticed Dean glancing at it with disapproval, grimacing. Sam rolled his eyes and ignored him.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Dean spoke.

"Isn't it a bit weird that the victim was so young. And they didn't even eat her. Just for the sport, I guess," he said around a mouthful, waving his burger around as he spoke. Sam noted this with disgust and nodded.

"Yeah, or maybe it tried to turn her. The body was left just in the wood by the side of the road with no effort to hide it. Whatever this is, it's obviously new to the whole killing part."

Or it didn't care enough to hide, Sam thought to himself.

"Huh," Dean said and took another huge bite out of his burger.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"You're right, it is weird. How old she was and how she was just left there. The whole murder is weird, carless even. That might make it easier for us, though," Stiles said, but Scott wasn't so sure.

They were walking down the near-empty hall and heading for the lockers, having just been let out of history early. Scott suspected Mr. Brown had had enough of students falling asleep in his class and not knowing the answers to any of his questions.

"Maybe," Scott said as he moved out of the way to let a student pass, "But this might just be a slip-up. Next time they'll do better."

"Maybe," Stiles echoed and stopped by his locker. He turned the lock as Scott leaned against the one next to his.

Scott was a familiar face in the crowd coming towards them.

"Hey, Scott!" Lydia said as she caught Scott's gaze. He smiled and returned the greeting.

"Hello, Stiles," Lydia said as her boyfriend turned around to face her. She gave him a quick peck.

"What's up?" Scott asked, and Lydia turned to face him again. She shrugged.

"Not much right now."

Stiles wrapped his arm around her waist, using the other arm to rummage around his locker, looking for his textbook between all the mess.

"But I'm a little worried about the murder," Lydia confessed, tucking a strand of hair around her ear nervously. "I don't like that I didn't feel or hear anything. I completely missed it, and I'm afraid it might happen again. Without warning."

Stiles tightened the arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"It's okay. You can't except to sense everyone's death all the time, you'd go mad. But next time we'll stop them, or if we can't, we'll at least catch them."

"Yeah, I know," she said and addressed both boys. "You thinking werewolf too?"

They both nodded, and Scott told her their plan.

"Could be. We were just talking and thought we'd check out the place the body was found, see if there's a trail of any kind. I'm guessing the corpse will be gone by now. You should come too, see if you sense anything."

Lydia nodded but didn't get a chance to answer before Stiles spoke.

"Besides, if everything goes to hell, which it usually does for us, you'll be great to have on our side in a fight."

She looked up at him and smiled before looking back at Scott.

"Sounds like a good idea, what time?"

"Six. At my place, tell the rest of the pack to come too. In case other werewolves show up we need to be ready," he said softly, even though the hallways were near to empty.

"I will," Lydia promised as Stiles closed his locker, having finally found his books. He dropped his hand from around Lydia's waist to her hand.

"But we should leave someone here, just in case," she said in precaution. The boys nodded in agreement.

"We'll pull straws to see who gets left behind," Stiles joked, but they all knew that was the only way this would be resolved.

"Okay, great," Lydia said just as the bell rang. The hall almost instantly started filling up with people, buzzing with activity. They all walked with books clasped to their chest, bags slung over shoulders as laughter and chatter filled the halls. Some people occasionally stared at Scott's pack, but for the most part, they ignored them or did their best to stay as far away from them as possible.

Scott noticed a few subtly giving them a wide birth. It was like the students could smell the trouble on them. And knew that spending time with them or being around them would cause them to catch it.

The students didn't know what to think about the pack, the closest circle of friends that never let anyone else in. And always at the centre of any disaster.

And the pack didn't know what to think of normal students either. Were they to be trusted? Were they out to get them, to rat them out the first chance they got? Were they lucky to live normal lives?

Those questions often swarmed through Scott's head, and he was sure they swarmed through Stiles too. Maybe even Lydia's, he thought as he watched Stiles and Lydia walk hand in hand. He noticed she too wasn't held at as high a regard as she used to be. Even the girls who used to want to be her kept their distance.

Scott shook off those thoughts, but they still clung to him. The questions kept popping up. They crossed Stiles' mind too as he kissed Lydia goodbye and they split ways.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

After their lunch, Sam and Dean got back in the car and continued on their way. Not half an hour later, they passed the 'welcome to Beacon Hills' sign, but they still had a few miles to go. They kept on driving, and Sam sighed, bored of the long drive. Outside the same woods kept flashing past, the only variation an occasional field and sometimes even a house. It was beyond him why anybody would want to live here. Dean noticed Sam's mood and put the radio on. The button wasn't working properly to Dean's dismay, and he had to press it multiple times. This had happened before, but he hadn't had the chance to fix it yet. Dean smiled at the song that came on, recognising it. Sam glanced at him, dreading what would come next and just as he predicted Dean began singing along. He nudged Sam, but he didn't join. He preferred the silence. But as the chorus began, he cracked a grin and couldn't help but sing along too.

The two brothers sang the rest of the song together, Sam attempting and failing at singing the backup vocals as Dean belted the verses.

"Dude, you're so off!" Dean said, laughing when the song finished.

"Ha!" Sam laughed, "like you're any better."

"You don't know what you're talking about, my singing is amazing," Dean answered with a wide grin.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Scott just couldn't concentrate on the words in his textbook, nor the teacher's words. He kept thinking back to the body. He'd almost gone an entire year without the supernatural interfering, but it had caught up with him again. It always seemed to do that just when he'd settled back into being as normal as he could. He wasn't foolish enough to think this wasn't anything but supernatural. He just didn't want any more blood on his hands. He'd had enough, enough of having to save everyone. And to have to do it over and over again because it never held.

How could he possibly balance that and school? His thought ran wild, each more panicked than the last. He was so lost he hadn't heard the teacher call on him even though she repeated it three times. He only noticed when she was standing right in front of his desk.

"Mr. McCall." She said angrily, "Would you mind joining the class today?"

She asked rhetorically, her voice laced with sarcasm.

He knew it was one of those questions where any possible answer could get you in trouble depending on the teacher's mood, or how much they hated you.

So he only mumbled an apology and listened as she continued to teach her class.

For the rest of the period, she repeatedly called on Scott to answer questions. Stiles sniggered from beside him, and Scott shot him an angry glance but couldn't help but snigger himself when Stiles was caught entirely off guard and missed a question and sat gaping like a fish.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"I'm Agent Ackles, this is my partner Agent Robin. FBI," Dean introduced himself as he and Sam flashed their FBI badges simultaneously as they'd done a hundred times before. The man behind the counter of the Beacon County Sheriff station startled.

"FBI?" he asked nervously, licking his lips. "W-what are you guys doing in Beacon Hills?" He lowered his voice, "Is this about the girl?"

Sam and Dean shared a quick glance. The scared newbie, always the one to say the most.

"Yes, we were working on a case nearby and were called in to check it out," he said as if they hadn't driven 15 hours to get here.

"But this isn't the first murder this town has witnessed, is it?" Dean said. The new Officer shook his head furiously, almost comically.

"What can you tell me about the murder of the little girl?" Sam asked, and Dean let him. He was probably better with people than he was. The Officer licked his lips again before trying for a casual shrug. It wasn't very convincing.

"Um, not much really. We're trying to figure it out ourselves. But they don't tell me much, I usually stand around here or at traffic lights. I have to warn you, I'm new around here."

Shocker.

"But I've heard the sheriff isn't very fond of FBI. He seems to take care of them quickly and without trouble. And they never come back. Not that I'm suggesting he's a murderer or something. But you're actually the first in years I think and I'll tell you what else…" he rambled, not answering Sam's question.

The brothers stared at him, wondering if he'd ever get to the point when a pointed cough from behind him stopped the Officer from going on to another story.

Sam and Dean turned around to whoever had spoken and found themselves standing before a not very happy looking officer.

"Thank you, Tom," he said over their shoulders to the other Officer, but his tone made it clear he wasn't at all pleased by Tom's talkative nature. He spoke with an air of authority despite his age. Not much older than Tom. He turned to the Winchester.

"Hello, I'm Deputy Parrish, how can I help you, agents?" he offered rather forcefully, his jaw set. Obviously, he shared the Sheriff's apparent hate for the FBI.

"Agent Robin and I were hoping to visit the crime scene and have a look at the body. And have a look at anything else you've found and collected from the crime scene. And possibly check up on your progress at solving it so far," Dean said, Sam nodded along.

"You're here rather quickly considering the crime was only yesterday, and already you expect us to have everything sorted out," he said suspiciously. Dean bit down on his anger and annoyance.

"As Tom can vouch for, we were working on a case nearby," he said flatly, not liking the guy's attitude.

"Well, I'm sorry, you'll have to come back another time," he said dismissively, but the Winchesters weren't going anywhere.

"We're here to help, and you look like you might need it," Sam said frankly, but the Deputy only gritted his teeth.

"As I said, we're still pulling the files together, come back later," he said sternly, and Sam and Dean shared a look. They were definitely hiding something and trying to get rid of the FBI as fast as possible.

"Look, we don't want this case solves just as much as you do. We don't want any more murders either, so please, let us help solve this case," Dean said, and that seemed to sway the Deputy. Doubt filled his eyes.

"Could we at least go see the body?" asked Sam, subconsciously using his puppy-dog-eyes. Dean restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his childish instinct that somehow still worked on adults. Despite him being an adult too.

"I'm sorry sirs, they are still running the autopsy. Once they have finished you may see the body."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"About how long should that take?" he asked.

The Deputy shrugged,

"I don't know, really. It's a complicated one. We don't know who she was and we haven't jet determined the cause of death either. "

"And the crime scene?" Dean pushed.

"Sure, but there's not much to see anymore, it's all been photographed and removed."

"Could we have a look at those?" Sam asked, and the Deputy nodded. He disappeared into another room and Sam and Dean turned to each other.

"That was weird," Dean said softly. Sam nodded.

"Yes, definitely. The crime scene's already been cleared? After such a short time? With the Forensics and Investigators? That just doesn't happen with a crime like this."

"Agreed."

Deputy Parrish came back with a file in his hands, he leafed through it as he walked over.

"Here," he said and handed it over to Sam, recognising him as the research type and Dean as the action taking one. Sam analysed the pictures and elbowed Dean in the side subtly. He looked over his brother's shoulder and looked to where is finger was pointing. He knew exactly what Sam had noticed. He saw it too.

The picture was zoomed into the little girl's neck and the enormous bites in them. They weren't normal animal marks; they were too big for that. Only a werewolf's teeth could have done that. Those horrible bites. They looked at the picture sadly, knowing the girl had had a very painful death, probably the only relief came when her head had been ripped off. They prayed it had been quick.

"Do you mind we keep these as we inspect the crime scene?" Sam asked and the Deputy nodded.

"Absolutely. We have multiple copies. I'll drive you to it."

Sam and Dean nodded their thanks and followed Deputy Parrish out the door, Tom waving them a friendly goodbye.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Why again are we skipping math to go to the Sheriff's station?" asked Scott for the third time since Stiles had never really actually answered his question.

"Because Scott," Stiles said exasperated, "Beacon Hills may be in danger, with a killer on the loose and as usual we've got to go and save it."

Still wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"But," Scott said as Stiles started the engine of his jeep, "That still doesn't explain why during 5th-period math specifically we had to…"

"And," Stiles interrupted him once he got the engine started, "I don't like math."

Scott huffed, amused.

"Stiles, you can't just use the supernatural as an excuse to…"

He didn't get any further because Stiles interrupted him again.

"Hey! Mr. High and Mighty, it's not like you objected too much when I suggested we skip."

But Scott wasn't about to let him have the last word just yet.

"Suggested? Grabbing me by the shirt and dragging me to the exit between periods does not count as suggesting!" he said with a smile as Stiles reversed out of the parking lot.

"I still haven't heard you object," was all Stiles said. Scott sighed, he supposed he was right. Not only couldn't he be normal, he often didn't want to.

"Cheer up Scott," Stiles said, knowing he had won. "School was getting boring anyway, now the real fun begins."

They drove down the main road for a while, heading straight for the Sheriff's Station as Stiles tapped the wheel nervously. Scott had learned that was always Stiles' tell, whenever he looked calm and collected, Scott could always tell Stiles was nervous from the tapping of his fingers. They kept driving until suddenly a Beacon Hills Sheriff car came around the corner. Stiles hit his steering wheel hard in frustration, knowing he'd been caught. He was going to be in so much trouble, and there was no chance of escape.

For once Scott cursed him for having such a recognisable car that was unmistakably his.

He swore loudly, "Oh, shi…"

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The Winchesters followed the Deputy out into the parking lot. He headed over to a car with Beacon County Sheriff Department written on the side. He glanced over at the car Dean and Sam approached appreciatively.

"Nice car," he said.

Dean smiled, "Thanks."

He climbed in behind the wheel as Sam ducked low to get through the door. The Officer reversed out of his driving spot and stuck his hand out of the window to make a motion for them to follow. Dean started the car and obeyed.

"You saw that, right?" Sam asked as they hit the road.

"Yep," Dean said, turning the wheel.

"Werewolf bite marks," they said in unison.

"So it's almost definitely a werewolf," Sam concluded, "But then why was she attacked nowhere near the heart?"

"True," Dean said, "but we know what it is and more importantly, how to kill it."

Sam wasn't quite settled with that answer.

"Now we can ask it why it killed the girl with a silver dagger held to his throat," Dean added as Sam looked a little worried, but didn't say anything.

They drove on for 10 minutes down the main road, passing a long row of houses. But then suddenly the Deputy stopped.

"Huh?" Dean asked.

This couldn't be the crime scene, he remembered pacifically it was out by the woods, not in the middle of the inhabited area. The Deputy got out of his car and approached the Impala.

"Why have we stopped?" Dean asked once the Deputy came over to his open window.

"Sorry Agents," He said sincerely but professionally, "Some kids looking for trouble, I'll be back in a minute," he said and Dean nodded.

The Winchesters watched him as he walked past the Sheriff station vehicle and over to a blue jeep which had been driving towards them. The vehicle had already stopped when the Deputy got out of his car. The Winchesters shared a look and watches as the Deputy walked over to the right side of the car and spoke with the person behind the wheel. The driver leaned out to speak to the Officer. They noticed he couldn't have been more than seventeen years old. So what was he doing here?

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"And where do you think you're going?" Parrish asked as he came up to Stiles open window. The two friends shared a panicked look.

"We were just on our way to the Sheriff's station," Stiles admitted, wincing at the thought of how much trouble he would be in. "To see about the progress on the murder."

Parrish sighed and looked between the boys.

"During school hours?" he asked and Stiles smiled.

"Yes," he tried to say innocently, his voice raising an octave. Scott stayed quiet.

"And I suppose it's a coincidence it just happens to be the hour your father is off duty?" he asked in a disbelieving tone, his arms crossed over his chest.

Stiles grinned again. "Yes."

"Turn around," he said to both of them, "Come back later, when school's over, and your dad is here," he scolded them before turning around and heading back to his car, knowing the boys would obey his warning.

"But Parrish, Beacon Hills needs us!" Stiles shouted after him, throwing his hands up.

"Beacon Hills can wait for another two and a half hours," Parrish replied as he stopped and turned to them. "We're not as lost of you think we are without you," Parrish added.

Stiles debated the comment. Weren't they though?

Parrish read his expression.

"Stiles!" he repeated with emphasis. The younger boy gave in with an annoyed jerk with his head.

"Fine but..."

"Stiles!" Parrish repeated, not in the mood for the young man's nonsense. Momentarily his eyes glowed red. Stiles got the message and remained very quiet.

"Fine! Fine! We're going," Stiles said hurriedly, recovering from his momentary shock at seeing the demon beneath Parrish's skin again. He started the car but stopped when he noticed the other vehicle a little further up the road, the driver and passenger still inside.

"Hey, who are they?" he blurted out. "I haven't seen that car here before. I would have remembered if I had," he said appreciatively.

Deputy Parrish's expression turned worrisome, his anger momentarily forgotten. "FBI."

"Oh, cool!" Stiles said, leaning out further so he could see better. Even Scott glanced over. It was a lovely car, and Stiles idolised the FBI.

"They're here about the little girl," Parrish added, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Stiles' face fell, and he sat back again.

"Oh," he said. He supposed they should have expected this sooner or later. "Not so cool," he mumbled before addressing Parrish again, who in the meantime had come back up to the window again. "We don't know what it is ourselves, how are we supposed to make up a credible story with them breathing down our necks?" he asked, his worried expression matching that of Parrish.

"Don't know Stiles. But let us figure it out. Go to school. Be normal kids. We'll manage," he said with a half-smile, reassuring them.

Stiles nodded and took one last look at the Impala before starting the engine.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Sorry," Parrish said to the brothers as he walked up to their window again, the blue jeep reversing behind him. "Had to tell those troublemakers to turn back around to school," he said, but Sam noticed the tone of endearment under his disapproval. He clearly knew those boys well and cared for them.

Sam and Dean nodded, accepting his apology and starting the car again. They waited for the Deputy to get back into his car and followed him on.

"Would have been nice if someone like Parrish here, or anybody else would have done that for us," Dean said once they were underway, not meeting Sam's gaze as he spoke.

"What do you mean?' Sam asked with a frown, not understand the connection. He didn't look up from the file of pictures he analysed.

"I mean, Sam," Dean said, his hand tightening on the wheel. Sam looked up at his tone. "That it would have been nice if a guy like him stopped dad all those times he pulled us out of school. In the middle of the school year, the Semester, the month, the week, the day even. He didn't care. It just... It just would have been nice if, for once, someone had stopped him, had held him accountable and made us go back to school. Let us be normal kids."

Sam didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. Whenever Dean had previously spoken about High School he always seemed glad it was over, that he'd missed most of it. But maybe that was all just an act. To cover up how much it had actually meant to him.

Sam had never thought about High School much once it was over. He just hadn't seen the point. Those years hadn't been the best, and he seemed to always leave a trail of bodies with every school he went to.

Just as well dad gave up on their education.

He didn't like the thought, but maybe it was the truth. If he'd never gone to college maybe...

He shook off all thoughts of the past and maybes that would never come true. He looked back down to the gruesome pictures.

Five minutes later, they arrived at the crime scene.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"I really don't know what we're going to do about the FBI," Stiles said, the first thing he'd said since they'd turned back around towards the school. "How did they find out in the first place?" He added, frustrated.

Scott thought for a moment before answering, careful with his wording.

"Your dad and Parrish are good," Scott said, looking up from his math textbook, stretched out over his knees. "But you can't be too surprised to find something had leaked. It was always going to happen."

Stiles nodded, tapping his steering wheel again.

"I guess so. It was probably some dumb paper. Hell, it might even be the school newspaper," Stiles said, trusting his hand up in frustration.

Scott smiled. Stiles did not like the school newspaper and would use any chance he could to blame all the world's problems on them. He snorted.

"Yeah sure, whatever you say," Scott said, turning back to his math, wondering what on earth would be a plausible excuse for missing so much of class.

"Yeah, you laugh," Stiles said unhappily, "But I'm telling you, they are evil."

Scott smiled but didn't bother arguing.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Okay wow, he wasn't kidding, there is absolutely nothing here," Dean said, looking around him.

Deputy Parrish had just left, leaving them to it after pointing out where the crime scene was. Sam and Dean had been close to stepping on it without realising it. Only when Parrish remarked on it did they realise that was it. Just by the side of the road, only a few paces into the woods had. Not even any tape marked the area, it was as if nothing had happened here merely a day ago.

Sam inspected the scene, all covered in leaves, but some piles smaller than others, some still in the shape of footprints.

"Not a sign of the murder. It's all completely cleaned up," he said, still surprised despite already having been told it would be empty.

"You sure this is the right place?" Dean asked his brother and Sam nodded. He was certain this was it.

"Yes, the pictures match with the surroundings."

They both kept looking, using the pictures from the crime scene to navigate what happened where. He saw the dent in a pile of leaves where her footprints had been found. That was another odd thing. She'd been walking out of the woods towards the road, that's when she was attacked. So what had she been doing in the woods?

He kept looking for wolf footprints as Dean searched for any blood on the leaves scattered over the forest floor. After half an hour of looking, they found absolutely nothing new. They both gave up.

"They must have wiped something," Sam said thoughtfully, "a crime scene simply doesn't look this clean. These leaves could have fallen this morning but..."

"It doesn't seem likely," Dean finished. It was begin March, nowhere near Autumn. Dean ducked under a tree and inspected another area, "But why? It's not like this town has a reputation to uphold or any way to hide their secrets. This town has seen more murder and apparent animal attacks than it has served hot meals."

Sam ignored his comment but agreed, "There's nothing here."

"Let's just go," Dean suggested with a tired sigh, carefully nudged a pile of leaves with his foot. "Find somewhere for the night and just get what we need to know from the pictures. We can ask again after the body and in the meantime, look through some lore or something."

Sam was pretty sure he knew what that 'something' was. And he didn't like it.

"Good idea," Sam said anyway and rose from where he'd crouched to look at something.   
Neither men saw the pair of eyes behind the trees watching their unconverted backs as they walked away.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Stiles stared at the clock, waiting for the handle to move, just the last tiny inch. Scott did the same two halls down.

DRRRINNGGG!

Scott and Stiles were the first to jump up from their seat and run out of the classroom, stumbling through the door.

"Let's go, let's go!" Stiles shouted as Scott came sliding around the corner to meet him, almost tripping over himself.

"Out of the way! Move!" Stiles shouted to whoever was in his way as he ran down the crowded school halls. Scott ran along behind him, apologising to whoever happened to have been standing in the way and as a result, had been knocked over in Stiles' stampede. Stiles crashed through the school entrance and ran across the parking lot. Scott kept up with him easily but didn't overtake him. For the second time that day, both boys jumped into the car and Stiles started it hastiny, hitting the accelerator before Scott even had the time to close the passenger door.

"Okay, so, in what had to be the longest period in my life I thought that before we go to the Sheriff Station, we'd better see the doc and ask him what he thinks about the whole thing," Stiles said as soon as they left the school grounds and reached the road.

"Okay, I'll make sure he's in," Scott said and looked around his bag for his phone. Stiles stopped the car at a red light, tapping the wheel impatiently. Scott had eventually found his phone when Stiles suddenly elbowed him in the stomach.

"Hey, Scott! Scott! It's them. It's the FBI in that cool car!" he said urgently, looking over his left shoulder. Scott looked over too and just as Stiles had said, the Impala was coming up beside them, slowing down to stop before the red light. The boys waited impatiently for them to come up beside their car, so they could finally see their faces.

"C'mon, C'mon," Stiles mumbled under his breath as the Impala inched forward. But just before they came in line with their window, they shot forward. The only thing they could see as they passed a black blur and the flash of the driver's hands on the wheel.

"Damn it!" Stiles shouted, slamming his steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "We just missed them!"

He cried out in frustration as the car behind him honked at him. He glanced up, noticing the light had turned green. He settled back in his seat as the car behind honked at them again.

"Okay, okay!" Stiles shouted angrily over his shoulder, putting the jeep into gear, "I'm going, I'm going!" he yelled at the impatient driver and shot forward, following the Impala up the hill.

"What do we do?" Scott asked, his hand clutching his phone and finger hovering over the phone dial. "Do we follow them? Or call Deaton?"

Stiles thought for a moment and yelled in frustration, "Ah! What to do, what to do?!"

He pressed his lips together and thought for a second.

"Okay, this is what we'll do. We'll follow them for half an hour. I guess they'll get a hotel room or something. If they stop somewhere, we drive on and check on them back later. If they don't, we abandon them and head to the Doc."

"Okay," Scott said, thinking it over. "But what if they notice us following them? What do we do then?" he asked worriedly.

"Then….Then….Oh, I don't know. We abort mission then I guess," Stiles said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Fine, let's do it," Scott said despite Stiles' answer. Scott called Deaton to tell him to expect them in about an hour. As he had guessed Deaton was already inspecting the body. So the two boys followed the Impala, no idea what they were getting themselves into.

But neither did the Winchester.


End file.
